Captivity
by Indiaj
Summary: Kel and her men are attacked on the road to Fort Steadfast. She and Neal are taken by force to Hamrkeng, where they anxiously await their fate and learn a few things about each other in the process.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or the setting, or anything Tamora Pierce, for that matter.

The day's ride it took to get to Steadfast was not out of the ordinary. Of course the small company of riders from New Hope was cautious, but in truth nothing was expected. They didn't know that their every move had been calculated, past journeys studied. The scouts that were always sent ahead were slain in complete silence

It was just when the flutter of the thought at why they hadn't returned crossed Kel's mind that the raiders struck.The attack was swift, much swifter than she would've believed possible from the usually disorganized Scanrans. A short battle ensued, but the attackers were all heavily built and fully armed. The few guards who managed to push their advantage were quickly shot down. Before any Tortallan had so much as blinked, their horses were gutted, their weopons thrust from their hands, and everyone brought to their knees. Kel struggled, attempting to twist around and throw off her captor, but he was holding her in such a way that it was impossible. Glancing to her left, she saw Neal doing the same thing, but to no avail. She finally stopped and surveyed the damage.

Three of her soldiers were dead, which left two more alive, along with herself, Neal, and Merric. She didn't know what had become of her scouts. As she was thinking, rough hands tied a gag around her mouth. Harsh ropes bound her hands, and she couldn't reach her boot knife. As though reading her mind, her captor thrust his hand down her boot, found the weopon, and tossed it aside. "Check them all," he said in Scanran. His men hurried to do so, and once everyone had been disarmed they forced the Tortallans to stand up.

"Which of you are Keladry of Mindelan and Nealan of Queenscove?" he said in rough Common. Kel looked at Neal, silently asking. He gave a miniscule nod, and together they stepped forward. Kel's captor snapped his fingers, and another man came to hold her. He stepped around so he was facing her and smiled cruelly. He was surprisingly clean, his teeth not rotting, his clothing in order, his long pale hair kept. "My king has a bone to pick with you. You will be coming with us back to Hamrkeng. The rest of them," he looked around, "may be disposed of as soon as we get off of the road. Let us go." Blindfolds were put over everyone's eyes.

The small band was marched through the woods, forced to blindly follow the guidance of their captors, who made no effort at all to keep them from stepping in ruts or running into branches. After what seemed like a long time, but was probably only a few minutes, the leader whistled to halt. Kel was forced to her knees yet again, and when her blindfold was removed she saw that Neal was crouched beside her, and both were facing their three companions. Cold fear washed over her as the Scanran's last words rang in her head. Merric was directly across from her, sweat dripping down his forehead, his eyes horrified. Three Scanrans lined up behind her companions. They drew their bows.

Neal shouted something, but the effect was muffled by his gag. Kel began struggling with all her might against the man holding her. She kicked out wildly, uselesslly. And then, in a prolonged, agonizingly slow moment, the Scanrans released their arrows. Merric and the soldiers fell forward, the arrowheads imbedded deep in their skulls. Kel screamed out. The men forced her and Neal to their feet, and Kel, still taking everything in, was doubly horrified that her friends' bodies were to be left in the open. They marched on.

When they had gone some distance, the stormwings showed up. Kel was filled with rage as she watched the creatures fly above her and a female alight on a branch ahead. Merric hadn't died in battle, but in cold-blooded murder. His body did not deserve to be desecrated by these beasts. The female opened her mouth. "We did not touch your friends, Protector. Their deaths were not ones to rejoice in; the method sickens us," she flew away. Kel wished they would fly to Steadfast, to New Hope, _anywhere_, and report what had happened. She knew that they would not.

On they marched. Nights went by in complete silence, neither she or Neal able to do anything about their situation. The Scanrans were not careless, but methodical, never overconfident, always on the alert for possible escape attempts. When they crossed the Vassa she and Neal were put in a waiting supply wagon, which was left uncovered so their every move could be watched. They were always blindfolded. From the conversations of her guards, Kel gathered that the squad sent to capture her and Neal was an elite group, King Maggur's closest protectors. Usually they were kept around to guard him, but they were also used for special missions that could not afford to go wrong. Like capturing the commander of New Hope and her second in command. She just wondered why. Why would they have need of two people who run a village? Why would they waste time and resources planning an attack when they could use the same energy to capture someone important: Lord Raoul, General Vanget, Lord Wyldon? These questions ran through her mind constantly.

The day finally came that they rode into the capital city. When they reached the palace—a dark structure all wood and weathered stone—the leader turned to them. "Remove their blindfolds and gags. Show them to their room."

As soon as her binding was removed Kel took a deep breath. "Why are we here?"

"Silence. The King wishes to meet with you tomorrow. For now you will be locked away and _you will be silent_."

"Yes, _master_," muttered Neal. His comment earned him a hard kick to the shin, making him stumble. His guard kicked him along, and Kel winced for her friend. He made a face at her, but his look quickly turned to concern as he took in her appearance. _I must look as bad as I feel,_ she thought,_ and as bad as he looks._ The journey had not been kind to Neal. He was bedraggled, his hair dirty and messy, his clothing ripped in several places. Kel's own clothing had suffered similar damage. The Scanrans had found it fun sport to beat and humiliate their captives on the road. It wasn't particularly painful, but it was demeaning. And neither of them had been able to see what was happening to the other.

They were thrust into a small, windowless room with a bed, a chair, and a bathing tub filled with water. It looked like the type of room that would belong to a maid or manservant. Four guards followed them in; two untied their hands as the other two watched. They left without a word, locking the door behind them.

Neal and Kel stood staring at one another, taking each other in. Neither quite knew what to do, what was happening. For the first time in either of their lives, they felt defeated, completely helpless.

"Kel."

Neal rushed at her, embracing her with all of his strength. She hugged him back with equal fervor and buried her face into his shoulder. Finally Neal let go slightly and slid his hands down to grip her elbows. He backed up and looked into her face."Did they hurt you?" He touched a dried and bloody cut on her brow, healing it with the slightest pressure of his fingers.

"Yes, but not in the way you mean. I'm all right. You?"

"Oh, don't worry about me. It'll take more than a few kicks to the ribs to get me down. Horse blood and all." Kel smiled weakly at the memory. "Kel, what do you suppose they want with us?"

"I don't have a clue. We aren't valuable to Tortall, not enough that they'd hold us for ransom. Do you think it could have something to do with Blayce?"

Neal frowned. "I'm afraid those are my thoughts exactly. He wasn't happy when his killing machines stopped killing; they were his main weopon. Everybody in the Eastern Lands knows that it was you who led the operation, and it wouldn't be hard to find out who was fighting alongside you."

"You don't think he just wanted _revenge_, do you? It's so foolish…such a waste of resources."

Neal smiled bitterly. "You forget, my dear, that Scanrans are notorious for being foolish. Just because King Maggot is one of the smarter ones doesn't mean he doesn't come from the same stock."

Kel sighed and backed away from Neal. A clatter from the door startled them; glancing around, they saw a tray had been slid under the wide crack between the bottom of the door and the floor. Neal hurriedly snatched it up and removed the cover with shaking hands. Neither one had eaten in close to three days. Neal brought it over to the bed and sat down, gesturing for Kel to sit beside him. On the tray was a note; Kel opened and read it aloud.

"Please bathe and make yourselves presentable. There is fresh clothing in the wardrobe. You meet the King tomorrow at midmorning." She made a face. "Well, that' s blunt. At least we know he isn't trying to poison us, if he wants to meet us tomorrow."

Neal, who was scarfing down a slice of bread, looked at her with his mouth full. "At thish point I don'th care if itsh boisoned." He swallowed, and promptly started inhaling the thick vegetable soup. Kel, unable to hold out any longer, did the same. When they'd finished all of the food, Neal let out a laugh that was more like a bark. Kel looked at him, alarmed.

"What?"

"Nothing. It's just…I finally ate my vegetables."

Shaking her head at his ability to joke in their present situation, she lay back on the bed. "I think I'll just close my eyes for a while." _Just for a minute…_ She shut her eyes.

Neal watched her for a moment, sighed, and stood. Stretching, catlike, he picked up the empty tray and slid it back under the door. He then settled down into the room's only chair, noticing that Kel was already breathing heavily, the breath of one who is deep in slumberland.


	2. Chapter 2

The sound of a splash and a yelp woke Kel from her rest. She sat up quickly, scrabbling for the sword that wasn't there, and saw that Neal had apparently just stepped into the bath. Averting her eyes for modesy's sake, she slowly got off of the bed and stretched. The combination of food and a long nap had renewed not only her body, but her energy. For the first time in a week and a half, she felt revived, ready to think of a way out of their predicament.

"Just tell me when it's safe to turn around, Meathead," she said to the air in front of her. Behind her, she heard Neal's start at her voice.

"Sorry. I thought it would be the best time, since you were asleep--"

"I still would be," Kel cut him off, "If it weren't for you and your exclaimations. The water can't be that cold."

"Freezing.You can turn around; the water's up to here anyway. I won't let you see anything."

Kel shrugged, turned and gasped. "Neal, your back!"

"Is it bad?"

"It looks terrible. What ha—I thought you said they didn't hurt you, Neal, but it looks like you were whipped!" She started to move toward him, thought better of it, and compromised by sitting on the foot of the bed.

Neal ran a hand through his hair. "I was. It was two nights ago. You were sleeping, and I'd started to work my hands free. I was crawling over to get you when one of the guards saw. Can you see if there's any soap?"

Kel was shocked. Her friend was hurting, and she'd slept through the whole thing. Numbly she got up and went to the wardrobe in the corner, and after rummaging for a few moments found a bar of soap. She got the clothing out as well and sat it next to the tub, and then handed Neal the soap. She watched for a moment as he struggled to reach his back, bit her lip, and with gentle hands took it from him. He looked at her questioningly.

"Don't. Neal, you risked your neck trying to free us, and I just slept through it like a—like a lump." She slowly began to wash his back, hissing in sympathy when he gasped as the harsh lye touched his angry red cuts.

"Don't do that, Kel," he started, and when she stopped with the soap he fluttered his hands impatiently. "Not _that._ I meant don't do that thing that you always do. You know you would've done the same in my situation. Just because you're usually the one to think of ways out first doesn't mean the rest of us are useless," he said bitterly. Kel didn't reply immediately, but pushed his head forward rather more roughly than she intended in her quest to clean his wounds. Lost in thought, she temporarily forgot she was supposed to be gentle, and Neal's "Ow!" brought her back. "Kel?"

She couldn't do it anymore. She dropped the soap in the water, swore quietly, and sat back on her heels, head in her hands. She was trying to fight the tears, trying so hard, and would have succeeded had Neal not asked her if she was all right. Silent sobs began wracking her body and she collapsed completely. _Why is it always one simple question that sends a person over the edge?_ she wondered hysterically. She continued to sob, and when she felt strong arms wrap around her she leaned into them, burying her face into Neal's bare chest. It took a few moments of full-fledged crying, and then a few more moments of calming down, before she could look at him. He was completely taken aback by her open display of emotions; he couldn't remember a time he'd seen her cry, and it scared him.

"I'm usually the one who thinks of a way out. I always do. But I—I couldn't save Merric," any ounce of control she'd regained was shattered at her friend's name. She felt sick. "He _looked _at me, Neal! I was staring straight into his eyes when it—when it happened. Do you know how that feels? He was looking to me for a way out, the way everyone always does, and I couldn't do anything!"

Neal was crying now, she could feel his hot tears on her scalp. He patted her hair as he held her close, and for a while they simply sat there. When he spoke his voice was rough, as if he couldn't trust himself to control it. "I do know how you feel. Everyone in our year always looked to me like the older brother, the logical one, the one who would know the answer, even if you were the one to act on it. I'm a knight—Mithros knows I'm a knight, but I've never felt like a warrior, like it was my place. That day, the day Merric died, I felt so helpless. I did look to you, Kel, I did think you would come up with a plan, but when they shot him and you screamed I realized you're just like me. You're so young, and here I am five years older, looking to you for direction. We're just two people, we don't know what in the Goddess's name we're doing. You're out of your element and I'm out of mine. We couldn't save him. I don't think there was anything we could've done different that would've saved him. But Kel…Kel, know that whatever happens, we're in this together. I couldn't save him, but I will do everything I can to get you out of here."

Kel wiped her eyes and looked at him. She was speechless after such a response from her usually calculative friend. Indeed, Neal himself looked taken aback at his outburst. She couldn't help it; she reached up and pushed back the hair from his forehead, the way she'd always thought of doing as a page. The intimate gesture seemed appropriate, somehow. "And I will do everything I can to get _you_ out of here, Neal."

Neal quirked a brow. "You know what this means, then, if we're both willing to die for each other? It means that—"

"Neither one of us is going to get out alive," Kel interjected. They smiled at each other in complete understanding. It was then that Kel realized Neal didn't have a shirt on.

"Neal, you don't have a shirt on," she said.

"Oh." He had the decency to blush as he scrambled for the tunic lying a few feet away.

Kel sat back on her heels and grinned. "Oh, don't hurry on my account. It's been a while since I've seen—" She was cut off by Neal stuffing a stocking into her mouth. As she struggled with the proffered garment, he stood and offered her a hand.

"At least I had the decency to put on my breeches, mistress."

Kel supposed that was something.


	3. Chapter 3

:3:

After a brief tussle over sleeping arrangements—Neal at first refused point blank to take the bed either with Kel or alone—it was decided that they would sleep together, as it was an extreme situation and they both needed a good night's rest. Kel personally felt that they were way beyond the boundaries of traditional chivalry, and that when stranded in Hamrkeng, the situation warranted a certain breech of decorum.

For a long time Kel lye awake, thinking about the past few weeks' events and that night's conversation with Neal. She felt that she was closer than ever to her friend, and that she should be happy about that, at least. Even in the dire circumstances, however, her mind was on something else entirely. Something that should've ceased being a problem many years ago. Having journeyed so far with only cruel guards for company, the one thing that had kept her going was Neal's steady presence beside her. Though she couldn't see him, she could always feel him, and it calmed her. Just as she was beginning to realize she calmed him. It scared her. She felt like she had at thirteen, except this time it was much, much worse, and she was filled with something she couldn't identify. It wasn't bad, exactly, but it wasn't good either. She felt empty, sad, and in a strange way, she almost _ached_. Gone were the hope and pain she had felt as a page at the sight of Neal, for now she knew she could never have him. He was betrothed, and Kel hated herself for wanting him, for secretly wanting to break up his marriage, while deep down she knew that she did want both he and Yuki to be happy. She loved Yuki as well, and did not want to hurt her. _What a strange mix of emotions I am_, she thought bemusedly.

Kel flipped onto her back and stole a glance at the object of her thoughts. _He is handsome_, she thought with a rush, and was immediately glad that it was dark and Neal appeared to be sleeping, elsewise her blush would be extremely visible. Slowly, not to disturb him, she rolled onto her other side, propping herself up on one arm. He slept at ease on his back, she could see his chest rising and falling. She stared openly at the hair that had fallen into his eyes once again, longing to touch it, but knowing that to do so would wake him up.

A small sigh escaped her lips.

Neal cracked an eyelid.

She was startled, but it was too late to pretend now. "Why are you staring at me?" he asked, opening both eyes and stretching both arms over his head.

"Oh, so I must be staring at _you_, O Conceited One," she lied, smiling slightly. "I was just thinking. Sorry if I woke you." Quickly she lay back down and curled up into a ball, resolutely closing her eyes.

"You _were_ staring at me; I heard you sighing like a lovestruck girl. What's going on, Kel?" She felt him shift behind her and could feel his eyes on the back of her head. "If you're uncomfortable, I can sleep on the floor."

"Uncomfortable's not the problem here," she muttered under her breath. Sighing, she sat up and faced him, plastering a blank look on her face. "Please, stay. We both need the rest, and there's no way you're going to get that on the floor."

Neal stared her down for a full ten seconds, and then appeared to relax. Something had changed between them, but it couldn't be what he thought it was. Not Kel; she would never…or would she? It was all too much to think about, too late at night. "Go back to sleep, then, Kel. No more staring." He took the liberty of staring at her until she grumbled about Healers who thought too highly of themselves and resumed her position as a human ball.

Neal sat up a little longer, pondering the uncanny thought that had just entered his mind. _Stop imagining things_, he told himself resolutely. As he lay back down, he couldn't help but think about that night's events, how small Kel had felt as he held her, and how she looked right now, her back facing him. His friend was obviously going through something, or the week's events had shaken her even harder than he had thought. He sighed and closed his eyes, shutting out all thought for at least a little while.

When she awoke briefly in the middle of the night, his arms were wrapped firmly around her.


	4. Chapter 4

The next morning saw the pair up early, both on edge at what the day would bring. Shortly after they awoke another tray was shoved under the door, this one containing nothing but two thick slices of bread, which they ate hungrily. The clothing they'd found in the wardrobe consisted of undergarments, plain brown breeches of homespun cloth, and simple white shirts. Kel didn't know what kind of a king would offer his prisoners clothing, decent lodging, and food while they were held captive; she had the feeling that most would simply throw them in a dungeon somewhere. She didn't know how right she was.

Kel and Neal had just begun to work out a plan of attacking the guards who would come for them when the men actually arrived. Before either of the prisoners could do anything, they were cast over with some kind of magical net, hands bound in thick iron chains. Kel opened her mouth and found that she could not speak; one of the men noticed and grinned.

"That'd be my doing, Miss. You won't be able to utter a sound unless I decide to let you," he remarked casually, his eyes gleaming. "Now march. You've an appointment with the King, and it'd be a shame to miss it."

OooO

Kel leaned against the stone, pressing her cheek against the coolness it produced. Her head felt feverish, her mind reeling. _We are going to die_. She would rather face a thousand Stenmuns in a row than be bound to this fate, to be held completely and utterly captive by forces beyond her control. She would've ascended gallows hill in Corus with dignity if she had been convicted of treason, and awaited her fate in prison as calmly as possible. This was completely different, not only because she knew she was not at fault, but because this was not an honorable death in battle or standing up for what she believed in. This was murder, pure and simple, just as Merric's death had been. The memories of earlier that morning came, uninvited and unwanted.

_Kel and Neal were blindfolded as they were pushed unceremoniously into the chamber where Maggur waited. The guards carefully untied the cloth from their eyes, and Kel heard Neal gasp at the sight of the Scanran warlord. Maggur was not a tall man, but he had substance to him. He was clad in the pelts that were the Northerner dress of choice, and his blondish brown hair hung in pieces and clumps to his shoulders. Nothing about this stocky man was indicative of the gasp he illicited from Neal—nothing except his face. Large, angry welts—the kind of scars that never fully healed—made their way down the right side. His face was battle-hardened, ruined beyond repair. His pale blue eyes shone with harsh intelligence and dared the captives to react. _

_He motioned for Kel and Neal to sit at the large table in the center of the room and took his place at the head. He proceeded to inform them of the latest news from the border. Kel was shocked to learn that the Scanrans, while they were gone, had mounted a full scale attack against the major northern outposts: Steadfast, Northwatch, Mastiff, and Frasrlund. Maggur spoke with pride of how it was the largest attack yet, the most successful. "Even your little birdies—yes, I know now the types of spies you have to your advantage—could not save your forts," he said in Scanran. Kel thought with a pang of her own sparrows. She did not know what had become of them. And what of Daine, who so often took on the shape of a bird of prey to spy on the enemy? Somehow she knew Maggur included the shapeshifter in his battle plans. She started when a hand gripped her own under the table. Neal stared straight ahead, his face drained of all color._

_Maggur went on to describe in alarming detail the fate of the Tortallan soldiers. "The Champion and the king live on, unfortunately," he said, "but many of the important commanders are dead. All three companies of your King's Own have lost their leaders, slain in battle. Many soldiers still live, though we know for a fact that a good number have been injured. You should be proud of your people—they fought bravely, and for a time it seemed they would never stop, no matter how worn they were. There was a last stand at Steadfast by a lad named Masbolle," he looked straight at Neal at this point and smiled horribly, "and a handful of men after their Knight Commander was brought down. You can be sure that none of their party survived. That was the last time anyone in Tortall dared to fight back. We have left all manner of carnage in our wake, and even as we speak, dutiful and loyal sons of Scanra make their way to the Tortallan capitol. Soon we will take your country, the Dominion Jewel, and the glory of Tortall will falter at last." Kel's brain felt as numb as her hand, which Neal was now squeezing the life out of. _

_Maggur went on to explain in graphic detail how he planned to kill them—or rather the various ways in which he might kill them. He said with a gruff laugh that he hadn't quite decided which method he liked best. Would it be the gallows or a bit of brush lit and left to smolder until the smoke overcame them and the flames licked their flesh? Possibly the ax-man, or would they be drawn and quartered? Or, he said with particular glee, would it be a new device—a device developed by the Gallan before his unfortunate demise—something called "the iron maiden"? As Kel and Neal paled at his table, he had the decency to tell them that they had three days. Three days to live. _

In the dungeon cell, Kel tried to grind her forehead into the stone wall, trying to get every coherent thought out of her head, to no avail. The worst thing? She knew now that her friends wouldn't come to save her. The one person who cared the most about her and would've come to save her was right here in the cell beside her. The second person on that short list—Dom—was too badly wounded to move from his hospital bed. Everybody else would do their duty and hope for the best. They knew they were needed now more than ever on the front lines. If it hadn't been for the well-staged attacks on the West coast and main forts, her friends probably would've broken orders to save her and Neal. Not now. _Not ever, _she thought.

For the second time in 24 hours, tears began to make their unfamiliar way down her cheeks. She thought of Neal, and how Yuki would never know how he died, and it made her sob even harder. She thought of how much Yuki would miss Neal, how they had loved each other, and it broke her heart. It was just so _sad_. But at least they had had a short time together. Dom would never know about her feelings for him, although compared to the seriousness of her present situation, her schoolgirl crush seemed small, insignificant, and ridiculous. When she laughed the sound was terrible, not so much a laugh as an empty heave. It made Neal come out of his own reverie and realize she was still in the cell with him.

"Kel?" He put a hand on her shoulder and turned her to face him. She tried to stifle her sobs and suppress her laughter, but it only made her hiccup, and then laugh some more. "I fail to see what's funny."

"Oh," she sat down in the hay, dragging her friend with her. "Oh, Neal, nothing's funny. I was just thinking about how _stupid_ I've been."

Neal looked at her sadly. "What are you talking about? You're the one who kept her head in their, I—"

"No, not now," she cut him off, "I meant about my life. Neal, I've been like a lovesick puppy about Dom for the past five years, and never once did I do anything about it. I've always been so focused on getting my shield that I missed something important. Why didn't I just tell him how I felt? Rejection? That seems a silly price to pay now that we know what we're about to face, now that it's too late for him. I'll never know love," she sighed, then looked amusedly up at Neal's questioning face. "Isn't that funny? Your commander, the brave Protector of the Small, is about to die and all she can think about is love. Not my people, not how we're going to get out of here, nothing rational. Love."

Neal's expression was pained. "I really can't believe we're having this conversation _now_ of all times. You liked Dom even when you were with Cleon?" Kel nodded, and Neal latched on to the subject because it was so much better than the alternative: despair and despondency at the thought of their fate.

"It was always Dom—well, first it was you—but Cleon just came forward at a good time and happened to be very persistent."

Neal began coughing violently as if he was choking on something, and it took him a few pounds on the back from Kel before he could speak. "You—you liked _me?"_ He was completely incredulous. "When?"

Kel had the decency to blush. "When we were pages. You were older, handsome, sophisticated…it was easy to see you through the eyes of the girl I was and forget you were my best friend. Cleon put you out of my mind, but by that time I was already set on Dom."

"Well, I'll be switched. I guess you learn something new everyday," Neal said, his expression somewhat distant. "Why didn't you ever tell me? You were always encouraging me to tell my latest besotments about my feelings…" he turned now and scrutinized her closely.

Kel shrank back, almost sheepishly. "And risk our friendship? Not a chance. Besides, the feelings would have never been returned. I would've ended up humiliated and nothing would've ever been the same. And let's not forget the fact that I was 12 years old. A little young to be thinking about romance seriously. "

Neal snorted. "Kel, I have _never_ known you to think about romance seriously. If you'd told me I would've taken you to my father get your head looked at. I wouldn't have been able to do it myself, you see, because you probably would've swooned all over me or something, I don't—"

"I would _not_ have swooned!" Kel interrupted, latching onto the subject just like Neal. "When in my life have you ever seen me swoon?"

Neal chuckled. "Well, never, but that's besides the point. The point is you kept a secret from your best friend in the world, the person who confided every single one of his own crushes to you…"

Kel smiled sadly. "Yes, you did confide all of your crushes to me. But it never _was_ me. _That_ is the real point."

Neal slumped against the wall, the mocking smile dying on his lips. "Ah. Point taken."

Kel took his hands in hers and leaned back next to him. "I'm glad you never felt the same way, Meathead, because if you did we would be probably making ill use," Neal raised his eyebrows suggestively, and Kel knew she'd gotten _that_ point across—"of the little time we have left. But since that is definitely not going to happen, and you have a lovely lady worrying for you back home, you will have proper motivation to escape. We need to plan, Neal. I don't want to die here."

"What do you suggest we do? I don't see any spoons for digging, not to mention the floor is made of stone. Our only window is barred, and even if it wasn't, its too small for either of us to fit through. So what?" Neal's face was dead.

Kel let her friend's hands go, stood up, and began to pace. True, there would be no way to escape by window or by digging. The thought of digging was almost comical in their present situation, like something out of a play. _Other ways. I need to find another way; there is always another way._ Her eyes lit on the door. It was made of thick wooden planks, not exactly encouraging, but it was wood nonetheless. There was no window on the door, no crack underneath, but the three planks that comprised it were nailed together rather obviously. _If we just had something to pry off the nails…_Kel did laugh out loud this time, when thinking of how bad her carpentry skills were. _Dom always did tease me…Dom…._She shuddered and went to sit back down. Neal was eyeing her expectantly.

"What did you decide, Protector?"

"There isn't anything we can do unless we can somehow pry the door apart. You see those joints, there." Neal nodded. "If we had something to pull out the nails…but even if we did there would be no way the guards would just stand by and let us."

"If there are guards…"

"Neal, there have to be. Maybe not right by our cell, but at there at least must be a sentry posted at the top of the staircase we came down. Blindfolded, it was hard to tell how long the hall is, but somebody would hear." Kel sighed and ran her hands through her hair.

Neal had the look on his face that told Kel he was pondering. "Kel, they don't know I have the Gift." Kel looked up, surprised. "I never used it in front of them, and they never bothered to test me. They can't know."

"Are you saying we should--"

"—We should wait until they let us out, in three days," Neal interrupted, his eyes shining with excitement, "When they open the door and try to bind us again, I'll simply reverse cast the net, or whatever it is they try to do! Numair and Alanna made sure I could at least do that, even if my specialty is Healing. Kel, it's not much, but it might work."

Kel bit her lip. She hated relying on so flimsy of a plan. So much could go wrong, though she kept a straight face to keep Neal's spirits up. It was better than anything she could come up with, anyway, and in this situation magic _was_ the only way out. "It sounds good, Neal, or as good as it will get. How did it take us so long to come up with this?"

"Oh, so now we both came up with it, did we? My dear, whilst you were staring at the door, it occurred to me to put a silencing spell on this room so we cannot be overheard. And that's when I realized," he sobered his expression, trying to look lofty and angelic, "I have the Gift!"

Kel had to venture a smile at that. Perhaps they could get out of here. But to what end? She slumped back against Neal and closed her eyes. "Neal, say we do get out of here. Say we make it across the border. What happens then? Tortall is in ruins, the King may not even be alive by the time we make it back. Our armies are in shambles and all semblance of law and order is gone. What then?" She felt a slight pressure on top of her head, and realized it was Neal's chin.

"Stop it," he mumbled into her hair. "You're ruining my plan. And I was thinking…Since when has Maggur's army been so big that they could take on all of Tortall? Even if every Scanran in the north woods came down fighting, they would not outnumber our soldiers. Factor in the Own, the navy, and the regular army, and we outnumber him five to one. Not to mention the regular citizens; I highly doubt most of them would go down without a fight. I think he lied. You didn't notice, but in the corner of his room was a shaman. I can't be sure, but I think he was casting a despondency spell. Did you notice the air lighten the moment we left Maggur's chamber, but the mood still stayed?"

"Yes!" Kel was incredulous. It would make sense for Maggur to lie; of course he could never muster enough men to mount such an all-encompassing attack on Tortall. He had not said a word about any new and horrible killing machines, which he surely would have mentioned had he actually had the technology. Then why go through all of this, why set up such a sham, just to cast a pall over two prisoners of war? Why capture them in the first place, why kill their companions?

"I think, my dear, that we are being held for ransom," Neal seemed to read her mind. "Think about back to your history lessons: Maggur will always have trouble financing his wars and his household. What is the surest way to deplete Tortall's coffers while at the same time enrich his own? He knew we were valuable and that we have friends to intercede with the King on our behalf. He can't have his prisoners brimming with hope at their rescue, so he lied."

The two sat in silent repose for a while, digesting this information. _It could all be false hope, _Kel thought. _But false hope is better than no hope at all._ Neal's lips brushed her hair, and she felt his arm snake around her shoulders. Neal or no Neal, a warm body was comforting and she welcomed his physical presence.

"I miss Yuki." Kel stiffened, waiting for what would come next. Neal sighed forlornly. "I miss Yuki, I love her. I may be a horrible person, but right now I'm just wondering what would have happened had we known about each other. Me and you. Not when you were eleven and I was a mere sixteen-year-old hooligan, but afterward. When we were squires?"

Kel closed her eyes but didn't move. "I wonder now too, Neal, but to tell the truth I honestly hadn't thought of you that way since I was a child."

She felt Neal smile into her hair. "You never were a child. Always the Protector, always saving someone. These past days, we've had to save each other. I think I've learned more about you and me than I ever did before, and all because some maggot decided he wants to kill us." There was a long pause, and Kel waited with curiosity to see where her friend was going. Finally Neal sighed and withdrew his arm. "We should probably get some sleep. Day two tomorrow." He winked at her and curled up on the straw.

Kel sat up for a long time, pondering the situation. She began to realize that there was more at stake than their lives. This was a new kind of captivity.


End file.
